Giggles
by LTP-girl
Summary: A collection of light hearted drabbles following the lives of our favourite attorney's of the DA's office. Just a bit of a laugh really! Brand new drabbles added!
1. Chapter 1

**This collection of drabbles follows the reflexions and perspectives of people associated with EADA Michael Cutter, mostly set around the courthouse. I just threw a few reflections together, and if you're a fan of Mike Cutter, then you'll love these! Enjoy;-)**

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters. I do not own Armani, Prada, Rolex or Laura Jones. The characters Brittany, Kirsty, and Marcus are mine.

Giggles

By LTP-girl

**Hotshot**

Michael Cutter makes his way up the steps of the courthouse, clad in his charcoal-grey Armani suit with matching vest, Prada loafers, and Rolex watch, carrying his Laura Jones briefcase.

My two friends Kirsty and Brittany, as well as my brother Marcus, and I, ogle him as we sit on the ledge of the stairwell, all these gorgeous male-lawyers passing us by as they enter the building.

But our eyes are only set on one.

"Hey Mike," I call out perkily.

He glances over in our direction. "Hi ladies," he replies with a warm smile.

"Gonna win a case today?" Kirsty calls out.

"Sure hope so," he replies with a wink, enjoying the attention.

Michael Cutter was fairly used to us flirting with him each morning, well aware that we would be waiting for him, anticipating his brief appearance.

"Well good luck to you, honey," Marcus says to him.

We watch him as he continues to walk up the steps, the sight of his firm behind causing us all to nearly faint and fall off our perches, onto the gravelled ground bellow.

Marcus waits until Michael Cutter has entered the doors of the courthouse before he speaks.

"Now _that_ is what I call a great piece of man-meat," he says mischievously.

"Yeah, that Mike is a real hotshot," Brittany adds.

We giggle amongst ourselves, as dark storm clouds role in over the courthouse.

**What do you think? Feel free to review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**My grandmother told me about this conceited and arrogant woman that she knows at golf, and how she and her friends try to avoid her whenever they play the green. So, I just had to write this, HAHAHA! lol:D**

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters. The characters Cheryl Steinbrenner and Jack Capper are mine.

Rating: T, for adult themes and language

**Getting Out of Dodge**

Defence attorneys Jack Capper and Cheryl Steinbrenner continued to walk down the corridor of the courthouse.

"What a great hearing," Cheryl said to Jack, as they exited through the large double doors.

"Yeah," Jack replied, agreeing. "That was a pretty good save."

They continued to walk, approaching the steps of the courthouse.

Jack stopped suddenly, and held Cheryl's arm tightly.

"What is it?" She asked a little dumbfounded, confused as to why Jack had stopped dead in his tracks. A look of concern spread across her face. Something had to be wrong for her colleague to behave in such an unreasonable manner.

She couldn't help but notice the look of horrified dread spreading across his face.

"It's that Michael Cutter from the DA's office," he replied, almost in a terrified whimper.

Cheryl sighed exasperated. "Oh great, and when we thought our day would be just tolerable," she answered, dead-pan.

He latched onto Cheryl's arm tightly, pulling her to the side.

"He mustn't see us," he said, hiding behind one of the large pillars of the courthouse, dragging Cheryl with him. "Hide!"

Cheryl chuckled. "Oh, Jack, we're grownups," she retorted in an amused tone. "We can't just hide behind a pillar and just hope he doesn't look our way."

"_SSHHH!_" Jack hissed, with desperation in his voice. "I don't want him to _hear _us either. Last thing I need is another confrontation from Michael Cutter. It's bad enough he beat me in that last trial." He sighed, peeved.

Jack's eyes followed the extremely handsome attorney in question, and the darling Latino brunette that accompanied him, as they made their way inside the entrance of the building.

"Good, they're gone," he said with relief.

"On a lighter note," Cheryl began, perking up a little. "I heard that Michael Cutter dropped his blackberry in a pile of dog-poop at Central Park yesterday."

Jacks eyes widened. "Really? Shit."

"Exactly," Cheryl answered smugly.

They both remained behind the safe-haven pillar, sniggering and giggling like school children about the EADA's misfortune.

**What do you think? Funny, exciting, maybe even a bit mean? Feel free to review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This is sort of a continuation of 'Getting Out of Dodge.' What does Cheryl Steinbrenner **_**really**_** think of that Michael Cutter from the DA's office?**

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters. _Falling For You_ is property of Delta Goodrem. The characters Cheryl Steinbrenner and Jack Capper are mine.

Note: song inspired fic

Rating: T, for themes and bad language.

**Clumsy Feet**

_My head's full of thought  
Thoughts of you  
And I'm distracted so easy  
Thinking what to do  
So unsure, so unfamiliar  
Am I wrong to think that something could happen_

_***_

I made my way up the steps of the courthouse, careful not to trip, a common era that I often found myself falling victim to, especially in a pair of four inch Versace heels. I was meeting a client for her hearing, a traffic bingle of all things. She had been accused of murdering three people by running them down with her Porsche.

_Why don't people just cross the street when they're supposed to?_ I thought to myself, disgruntled._ Oh well, even if we lose, I'll still get a hefty pay-check. _

I didn't blame my client for losing her temper and running over those impatient pedestrians, and this particular case was a significant cash-flow for my firm, so I wasn't fussed whether we won or lost.

And then I saw him. Michael Cutter. The new EADA.

He certainly was the talk of the town at _my firm_, the guy who had taken DA Jack McCoy's old position. He certainly lived up to his name, the cutting-edge prosecutor who goes to any length to achieve justice, with those piercing blue eyes and that rugged Boston Accent. A friend I attended law school with, Amanda, a defence attorney like myself, once had a trial with him. She's a lesbian, an even _she_ couldn't keep her eyes of him.

His greying sandy hair shone vibrantly in the spring sunshine, as he made his way down the courthouse steps to the snack vendor below.

_Please don't see me, please don't see me, please don't see me_, I thought to myself desperately.

I was wearing the oldest Chanel suit I owned, my face was clean of any makeup, my acrylic nails needed a refill, and to top it all off, I was due for a hair appointment, with my black roots seeping through my superficial blonde hair dye.

Of all days to cross paths with the debonair Michael Cutter, when I was dressed like a trailer-trash litigant off one of those small-claims-reality-TV-court -shows.

To make matters worse, I became so completely distracted by Michael Cutter's iridescent beauty, that I lost my footing, and tripped on one of the steps.

_Damn you, sexy Cutter._

***

_Will you fall for me  
I need to know, the way I'd like you to  
Baby, will you fall for me  
The way I've fallen for you_

_***_

I picked myself up, and dusted myself off. I felt something wet, blood, underneath my black slacks, and realised I had cut my knee on one of the steps when I tumbled over.

I also realised that Michael Cutter's eyes had shot in my direction.

_Bollocks! Shit! Fuck! He had seen me fall over._

I felt my face and neck flush with heat in, and wasn't wearing any makeup to hide my rosy cheeks.

He approached me.

"Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

_I'm fine thank you, dickhead! How about you piss off and worry about some of those dead people you're so passionate about, you public servant!_

"I'm fine thanks," I replied, trying very hard to compose myself. "Shit! These fucking steps are kind of difficult to climb."

He arched an eyebrow, appearing a little surprised by the words that had escaped from my mouth.

_Oh no! I can't believe I swore, in front of Michael Cutter, of all people. I never swear in public, well, not where anyone of importance can hear me. Nobody would think I was a five-figure-salary lawyer with my trashy mouth._

"I'm so sorry," I gasped. "Oh my God! I can't believe I said fuck...and shit..." I laughed apprehensively. I then came to the realisation that if I didn't stop talking, I would continue letting obscenities fly, so ceased mid-sentence.

_This certainly isn't one of my most ladylike moments._

Michael Cutter chuckled. "Don't worry," he assured me. "I have days like that myself."

Strands of his soft hair moved in the gentle breeze.

He smiled at me, a little amused by my discomfort, his piercing blue eyes stabbing me deep inside, which gave me a sort of unsettling feeling.

_Yeah, well, I earn more money than you! _I thought silently, in attempt to reassure myself, but failed miserably.

His eyes kind of reminded me of fierce waves crashing against rocks along the coastline, at the onset of a thunderstorm. _I wouldn't like to be stared down by those peepers in a courtroom, _I thought_._ I could have sworn I heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

I let out a nervous laugh, finding his presence to be unnerving.

"Hey, you're Cheryl Steinbrenner, aren't you?" He recognised me.

"Yeah, that's me," I replied, still embarrassed.

I felt my heart race, and my hands turn clammy. I wiped my perspiring hands on my jacket, my anxiety heightening.

_Yeah, real classy Cheryl! _I cursed myself. _I've been without a man too long._

"I've read an article on your firm recently. You're with _Steinbrenner & Capper, _right?" he continued.

"Yeah, that's the one," I answer. "It was my father's firm. I took over from him a few years ago after he retired, and got into partnership with Jack Capper. You may have heard of him."

"Yes I have actually," he replied. "I beat him in a trial once."

"Yes," I answered. "I believe Jack, my partner, has mentioned that to me."

I recalled back to a week before, when Jack Capper and I had hidden from Michael Cutter behind a pillar at the exact same courthouse. He briefly mentioned how Michael Cutter reamed his ass, metaphorically speaking, of course.

"I might see you in court some time," Michael Cutter said.

"Yeah, maybe," I replied, making my way up the steps. "Well, I must be off. I've got a hearing I must attend to."

"Don't we all," the EADA joked, with a hint of a boyish glimmer in his dimpled smile.

***

_I'm not acting like myself  
And I'm playing the role of someone else  
And my heart's beating so fast  
I can't stop it  
And I'm so unsure  
So unfamiliar  
Am I wrong to think that something could happen_

_***_

I shook off the emotional remnants of my one, brief, not to mention awkward, encounter with the notorious EADA Michael Cutter, and entered the front entrance of the courthouse.

I combed my fingers through my short blonde hair, holding my pure Italian leather briefcase in my other hand.

_Hopefully the hearing will go a lot better than that social incident_, I thought to myself, as my Versace heels clicked along the marble floor.

***

_Will you fall for me  
The way I'd like you to  
Will you fall for me  
The way I've fallen for you  
The way I've fallen for you  
_

**What do you think? Please review!! :-D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I've uploaded my next drabble, snippet, short story, whatever you like to call it. Jack McCoy makes an entrance in this one, and there is also a bit of a twist at the end. Enjoy;-D**

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own 'Law and Order' and its characters. I do not own Porsche or Versace or Chanel. The characters Sarah Hagity and Chris Nichols are mine.

Rating: T, for themes and language

Note: It is not my intention to offend anyone. It's just a bit of light hearted fun.

**Prank Calls**

Sarah Hagity and her friend Chris Nichols sat on the sofa in the middle of the room of their college dorm. They were quite bored, which was unusual for a Thursday night, especially at the college _they_ attended. They would normally be out partying with their friends, had they not had to spend their last pay checks on a speeding violation.

_Bastard DA's office_, they each cursed to themselves.

"I know something fun we can do," Chris suggested, his mood picking up.

"Oh yeah?" Sarah replied, intrigued.

_Chris always has great ideas to fight boredom_, she thought to herself.

He picked up the receiver of the phone that was placed on the wooden coffee table in front of them.

"I know how to get back at that DA's office for taking our money," he said mischievously.

"Prank phone calls?" she inquired, thinking along the same line.

"I like the way you think," Chris replied, staring down at the phone as he quickly dialled a number.

"Who are we phoning, Jack McCoy?" she asked spritely.

"Nah," Chris replied disappointed. "They've put a hold on releasing his number. But don't worry, I'm phoning someone whose chain we can _really_ yank."

They both chuckled wickedly.

Chris heard the phone ring a couple of times before it picked up.

Sarah moved her head in close to listen.

"Hello, is this the District Attorney's Office?" Chris enquired sweetly. "I would like to speak to Michael Cutter, please."

Sarah pushed a cushion into her face, to conceal the sound of her outlandish laughter.

Chris waited for the paralegal to put him on the line.

"Mike Cutter," a voice said over the phone.

"Hello... Mr Cutter?" Chris inquired, his voice now deep and alluring. "I've been watching you at the batting cages. And let me just say, you are a very _attractive_..._gorgeous_... _fabulous_... _man!" _

Chris held his hand over the receiver, as he and Sarah burst into laughter.

They were pleasantly surprised to find that Mike was actually buying into their prank.

He then put the phone back to his ear. "So how big_ is _your bat?" Chris enquired cheekily.

"Who is this?" Mike enquired, a wry grin spreading across his face, as he leaned back into his office chair, becoming very interested in this seductive admirer.

"My name is Rupert Caldwin, Mr Cutter," Chris replied teasingly. "And wait 'till you get a load of mine, _it's huge!"_

Sarah shrieked with laughter, but quickly put her hand to her mouth, realising how loud she was.

"So um, you want to meet up at some place and get dinner or drinks, or do you want me to drop by your office for a quickie?" Chris asked sneakily, before abruptly hanging up.

"That was awesome," Sarah said, chuckling.

"Yeah I know," he replied, equally amused.

The phone began to ring.

Sudden shock spread across their faces.

"Oh no, you'll have to pick that up, or else the machine will get it," Sarah exclaimed.

Chris picked up the phone. "Yes, Mr Cutter, I'm sorry I hung up like that. My domestic partner, Harold, just walked into the room..."

***

**Friday Morning, 9:00am**

Mike had been stuck in a meeting for the past hour-and-a-half and was becoming quit fed up. In regards to the case he had been working on, Jack McCoy wouldn't consider any of the options Mike had drawn out to him, and he was getting tired of Jack's ridicule.

"If you think you can convince a jury of that, you've got another thing coming," Jack retorted indignantly. "And if you think you can sneak past a judge how you obtained that information, you're dead wrong about that too."

_This kid, Mike, really doesn't know what he's in for_, Jack thought to himself, shaking his head exasperated. _I should get Lieutenant Van Burin to knock some sense into him. The young ones are always scared of her, and even Michael Cutter's no exception, especially after that 'silver platter' remark she made towards him._

Mike slumped into his chair, his eyes challenging, trying to figure out a way to get his boss on his side.

Their thoughts were interrupted with a knock on the door.

Doris, their paralegal, had entered the room.

"Mr Cutter, there's a Rupert Caldwin on line one. He wants to speak to you," she said, poking her head into the room.

Connie, who was also in the room, standing next to Mike, exchanged an amused glance with Jack.

Mike stood up quickly. "Oh right. Thanks Doris," he said, heading towards the door. "I've got to take this. I won't be a moment." Mike quickly hurried from the room, and headed to his own office.

Connie approached Jack.

"Do you think Mike knows?"

A worried expression spread across Jack's face. "About us sleeping together? I certainly hope not, Connie," Jack replied quickly. "If I want to keep my position as District Attorney, I had better watch what gossip gets spread around the office. I already have a soiled reputation for sleeping with Claire."

"No, Jack," Connie laughed, shaking her head, amused by her boss's paranoia. "I mean those kids who have been pranking Mike, pretending to be some secret admirer."

"Oh you mean that?" Jack was suddenly relieved. "No, I don't think so. He doesn't even realize that Justice Anne Harlow is actually a man."

They both laughed.

"I sure hope Mike takes a while anyhow," Jack said, approaching his office door, and locking it securely. "So that _we_ can get down to some serious business."

"Sounds like a plan," Connie replied, her voice suggestive. She walked towards him, and slid her fingers through his grey hair. "I could have just as easily got with Mike, but forty doesn't cut it for me. He's far too young."

Jack chuckled. "Oh, I've got a feeling that Mike isn't interested in girls, anyway." Jack shot back, spreading his arms around her waist, and leaning towards her.

"Men are like a good wine or cheese. They get better with age," Connie added, her lips grazing Jack's.

"Well, if you're a gal who likes her man to be ripe," Jack said huskily. "I'm your man."

_**Sooooo, what do you think?**_** Feel free to review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I guess everyone can sympathise with Mike in this one. I don't know anyone who actually enjoys visiting the dentist. Enjoy;-)**

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own 'Law and Order' and its characters. Dr Glone is mine.

Rating: PG

**Dentist**

Mike Cutter hated going to the dentist.

He tapped his foot on the floor, nervously waiting his turn, as he read a science journal that he had picked up off the rack of magazines beside his chair.

There was nothing he hated more than sitting in a sterile waiting room, the tension building as he waited for his name to be called out.

He let out a long breath in exasperation.

_Two fillings, and a bridge job, I wander how much it's going to hurt this time, _he thought to himself. His last formal visit involved a root cannel. _God that hurt like hell. _

It wasn't just the pain that he had to endure during a routine visit to the dentist that set his nerves on edge. It was the whole atmosphere of a dental surgery in general.

_It was the unpleasant smell of antiseptic, it was the sight of sharpened dentists' tools laid out in front, and it was the taste of latex gloves as Dr Glone prodded her fingers inside his mouth._ He shuddered. It was _the piercing shrill sound of the drill. _

The dental hygienist entered the room.

"Mr Cutter, Dr Glone will see you now," she informed him with a friendly smile.

He stood up from his chair, and tossed the journal he had been reading back on the magazine rack.

He headed towards the door, the hygienist opening it for him at the other end of the room.

He swallowed with dread filled anticipation, the colour in his cheeks draining.

"Come through Mr Cutter," the hygienist said, leading him down the hall to the dental surgery. "Don't worry Mr Cutter. I'm sure it won't hurt a bit."

_Usually that means it's going to hurt like hell._

He chuckled nervously. "Well if you do a botchy job, I can always sue you," he joked.

**What do you think? Please review. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Uploaded my next snippet. I don't know about this one, I didn't mean for it to turn so **_**eugh.**_ **Just let me know what you think of it! Hope y'all like:-)**

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters, and a particular quote found in this story. Doris and Rupert Caldwin are mine.

Note: 'Sweetie' spoilers

Rating: T, for adult themes and language

**Sugar Daddy**

**Courthouse, Monday 10:00am**

Kate Tenney sat in the back row of the gallery of the courtroom, her eyes watching the smartly dressed prosecutor, EADA Michael Cutter, state his case, his back facing towards her. She watched his hands gesture expressively, and listened to his articulate Boston accent gravel on, eyeing his determined pose. He paused for a moment to refer to his notes, and she watched on as the petite Latino brunette handed him a piece of paper of some description. He then resumed, drawing out evidence, and linking it back to the crime.

It had been an entire year since he waltzed into her office, claiming the book on Sweetie Ness she had published was in fact _her_ entire life story, and accused her of... well, the unmentionable things she had done in her past. She mused in inside her head how she approached him with one of her devilish smiles, placing her hand on his firm chest, her gaze steady on his. She could still remember the sharp scent of his cologne.

'_You ever want to party with someone nice and tight, sugar daddy, you just give me a call,' _she recalled saying to him, leaving him perplexed. Looking back on it, it may have seemed quit teasing, but she meant every word of it. She still could remember the puzzled expression she had left him with.

He still hadn't taken her up on her offer. And Kate Tenney always got what she wanted, no matter what it took!

When the trial had been declared adjourned, she made her way out into the foyer of the courthouse.

She eyed the slender attorney dressed in the black suit exit through the door, his briefcase in hand, and the cute little brunette, whom she assumed was his ADA, by his side. They appeared to be discussing the events of the trial.

She leaned against the cold stone wall, her arms folded, watching them as they made their way down the corridor and pushed through the double doors into the fresh air that awaited them outside. Her gaze was wistful.

_God, he's gotten even more gorgeous over the past year, _shepondered. She often contemplated what it would be like to be held by him, to be nurtured by him.

Her thoughts had been broken by a disgruntled toilet cleaner, holding a mop and pulling along a trolley full of cleaning products, impatiently waiting for her to get out of his way.

"Hey lady, you're in my spot," the man told her. "This is where I park my junk."

Kate moved out of his way, a little startled by the cleaner's approach.

He then went on muttering to himself something abouthow_ he was sick of cleaning posh_ _lawyer's toilets, and how they're always clogged with shit._

Kate directed her attention back to the doors where Michael Cutter had exited.

The cleaner looked up at her, observing her pensive glance. He lifted his baseball cap and wiped a dirty hand on his overalls.

"You like that Michael Cutter, egh?" he asked in his heavy Bronx accent, as he began mopping the floor. "All the ladies round here do." He sighed with frustration, sounding self defeated.

Kate turned her head towards him, surprised by his statement.

He looked up at her, continuing to make broad strokes with his mop.

"Well what ye waiting for? You go after your man," he advised her. "A few years down the track, when he's shacked up with that Connie Rubirosa, buying her lovely things and taking her away on trips to fancy places, you'll regret never chasing after your gold. You only live once, sweetheart."

***

**DA's office, 12:45pm**

"I'm here to see Michael Cutter," Kate explained to the grey haired paralegal, who was getting out of her seat, and approaching the wooden door to the left. "I'm Kate Tenney."

"Mr Cutter, there's a woman here to see you, who says her name's Kate Tenney."

Mike looked up from the case file he was looking over. "Okay, send her in," he replied, a little dumbfounded. He wasn't expecting anyone to drop by his office on that particular day.

"Okay ma'am, he'll be with you in a minute," she replied to Kate, who was standing idly in front of her desk.

_Kate Tenney, where have I heard that name before? _Mike wandered, trying to put a face to a name.

Kate leaned provocatively against the wall in the doorway of his office, her leg slightly arched.

"Hey, sugar daddy, you wanna come out and play?"

A bewildered expression spread across his face. Now he remembered where he knew her from.

He stood up from behind his desk, his glaring eyes turning dark and frosty.

"Ms Tenney, what are you doing here?" he demanded, with slight anger in his voice, thrown by her unexpected appearance.

She approached him, her hips swaying in a suggestive manner.

"Oh come on, you know why I'm here," she replied, in an amused tone. "Please don't deny you're hot for me, because you hide it so badly."

Her face was just inches away from his. She wrapped her fingers around his tie, and smiled at him wickedly.

He took a step back, shaken by her coming on to him.

He called for his paralegal to remove her from his office.

"Doris, would you come in here," he cried out.

Doris rushed to his aid. "Yes, Mr Cutter? What can I do for you?"

"Get this woman out of my office," he ordered indignantly, pointing at Kate. "I don't have time for her childish games."

Doris opened the door wider, signalling Kate to leave.

Kate turned and walked away. She stopped in the doorway, leering at Mike.

"Until the next time, Mr Cutter," she said playfully, before heading down the hallway.

Mike stood with his hands on his hips, sighing in disbelief. He glanced over at Doris, who had just closed the door behind Kate, and was now approaching him.

Doris stood facing him. "So where were we, Mr Cutter, before we were so _rudely_ interrupted?"

Mike looked up for a moment, a wry grin spreading across his face. "I believe we were in the middle of sorting my legal briefs," he replied matter-of-factly, glancing back at Doris.

"Well then, Mr Cutter, let's get back to work," she replied mischievously, her hand on his belt buckle. "Or do I need a _warrant_ to search your House of Representatives?"

They both chuckled flirtatiously, as they leaned into each other.

***

Kate continued to make her way down the hallway of the DA's office to the elevator, with a look of astonishment in her face.

Michael Cutter was the first man _ever_ to turn down one of _her_ propositions.

And the strange thing was, she found it oddly flattering.

**What do you think? Was it a bit too much? Feel free to review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Squeal to **_Clumsy Feet_**. This chapter focuses on Cheryl Steinbrenner's POV in regards to a case where she acts as the defence, not so much the personal feelings she harbours towards Michael Cutter. This is a bit more serious than previous chapters, but contains an interesting twist. Enjoy:-)**

I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters. I do not own Porsche. The characters Cheryl Steinbrenner, Justice Harlow, Ms. Langdon, Ms. Rothschild, Darryl Rothschild, and Kyle Giles are mine.

Rating: T, for adult themes and language

**One Shot**

It was the day I was kind of dreading. The day I would fight in court against the one and only Michael Cutter.

The case in question involved the death of an elderly woman, and it was brought forward that my client had caused her death, with acts of neglect and direct active abuse.

After weeks of slogging over this particular case, trying to overthrow the prosecution's claims against my client, I had finally produced enough evidence to completely abolish the prosecution's one and only damaged witness. Pretty slam-dunk, really...

***

EADA Michael Cutter approached the young woman sitting in the witness box.

"Ms Langdon, you have been Mrs Rothschild's case manager for four years, up until her sudden death two weeks ago, am I correct?" He enquired, gesturing broadly with his hands.

"Yes," she replied solemnly.

"Now, in your witness testimony, you stated that your department were informed of some particularly odd behaviour of the client in question, leading up to her murder, which occurred on May 16th. Would you care to elaborate on that for the court today?"

"We were told by Mrs Rothschild's nephew that she had been falling over a lot lately, and that it may have been due to her loose drinking habits. And he felt it best that we intervene," she explained to the court, in response to the EADA's question.

"Looking further into her nephew, Mr Rothschild's, claims, what common pattern did you find?"

"We found that she fell over most often after she had one standard glass of red wine."

"Right. So what contributing factors did you conclude caused her to fall over so frequently?"

"We found that she routinely drank her standard glass of wine either before, or whilst, preparing her dinner. She commonly did not consume food the whole six hours between her lunch and dinner meals, and that she was most often fatigued at the end of the day, especially on the days where she had played golf." The witness continued stating her observations. "She was also at a fragile stage in her life, given her age. We concluded that these factors influenced the effects of the alcohol on her neurological system, as well as her mind, to intensify."

"Which resulted in the higher rate of falls," he finished. "Okay_, _so what instructions did you give to Mrs Rothschild, as well as her nephew, in aiding the management of her condition?"

"Drawing from what her nephew had informed us of, we formulated a plan for her to follow. This plan advised that she was to consume her wine during, or after, eating her evening meal."

"And why is that, Ms. Langdon?" Mike queried, turning around to face the rest of the court.

"Because Mrs Rothschild was not on her feet so much after preparing dinner," Ms Langdon reasoned. "Once she had eaten dinner, she usually spent the next several hours in her lounge chair, watching TV. Because of this, it was considered that she would be less prone to falls."

Mike sighed, his body turning back around to face the witness. "But Mrs Rothschild's nephew failed to reinforce this plan on her, didn't he? And he often, on many occasions, failed to check on her, often going weeks on end without dropping by her home to report on her progress. And she fell down the stairs, and punctured her lung." Mike turned to face the jury. "If neglect is the probable cause of Ms Rothschild's death, this would put her nephew Darryl Rothschild as prime suspect in her murder." He turned back to Ms Langdon. "Isn't that right?"

Ms Langdon paused for a moment before speaking. "That was the suggestion we had made, but we have no hard evidence to draw upon an act of neglect."

"Isn't it true that, on an unannounced home visit, you recorded in a report that you had noticed she was wearing a garment which exposed her arms?"

"Yes."

"And that this was unusual for Mrs Rothschild because on previous visits, you noticed that she always wore clothing that covered that area of her body."

"Yes, that is correct."

"With that, you observed circular marks which appeared to be cigarette burns located on her arms, is that right?"

"Yes, I did."

"Mrs Rothschild doesn't smoke does she? On your numerous home visits, did you detect any traces of physical remnants of a smoker in her home at all?"

"No. There was no smell of cigarette smoke in her home, and there were no cigarette butts in the trash. Her medical record also shows no smoking of cigarettes in her past."

"However, you have reason to believe that her nephew, Mr Rothschild smokes, don't you?"

"Yes."

"What makes you hold that idea?"

"The times that he accompanied me when visiting Mrs Rothschild's home, I observed that he smoked on several occasions."

Mike turned towards the judge. "No further questions, your honour," he said. He then returned to his seat next to Connie.

_Oh shit, _I thought. It was my turn to cross-examine the witness.

I stood up from behind the defence table and approached the witness.

"Ms Langdon, I've been reading up on your own personal history," I began coolly. "You were placed in custodial care at the age of eleven, and remained in the care of the welfare system throughout the remainder of your adolescence, is that correct?"

Ms Langdon looked away, her face becoming distant and unsettled. She crossed her legs in discomfort.

"Yes that is correct," she replied, her voice a little shaky.

"And your mother was a neglectful... abusive... self centred... alcoholic, was she not?"

"Yes," she answered matter-of-factly.

"And she also smoked, right?" I continued to pace around the courtroom, my shoes clomping on the floorboards.

"Yes she did."

"Would you care to tell the jury what your mother did with her cigarette butts once she had finished smoking a cigarette?"

The besieged witness struggled to answer my question.

I stopped pacing for a moment, and stood impatiently, frustrated by her lack of a response.

"You are under oath in the court of law, Ms Langdon, and if you fail to answer my question, you will be committing perjury," I reminded her sternly.

She removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked up at the jury.

"My mother used to burn me with her cigarettes," she answered softly.

She began to shift in her seat, her body language indicating a note discomfort.

I knew what she was thinking in regards to me. It was written all over her face. _That Steinbrenner bitch._

Michael Cutter jumped out of his seat abruptly. He turned toward Justice Harlow.

"Objection, your honour, what has this got to do with the case, really?" he demanded with persuasion. "_Justice Harlow, please!"_

Justice Harlow glanced at me, and asked for an explanation. "Ms Steinbrenner?" she quarried, interested as to what I had to say.

"I am demonstrating to the court the bias that this particular witness may be harbouring as a result of the abuse that she had experienced as a child," I explained to both the judge and the jury. "Ms Langdon's form of abuse has been found to be _acutely similar_ to the type of abuse that my client has been accused of inflicting upon Mrs Rothschild."

Justice Harlow nodded in agreement in response to my explanation. "Sustained," she announced. She glanced at the prosecution. "Take your seat now, Mr Cutter."

Michael Cutter sat back down again, rolling his eyes in disbelief, as he did so.

I turned to face the jury, and resumed my analysis. "So you can see how Ms Langdon would have so easily gotten into her head, and been so carried away with, the idea that my client, Mr Rothschild, had burned his aunt with his lit cigarettes," I demonstrated. "This will become evident in the photographs that I will show the court in a moment."

I made my way towards the defence table where my notes and evidence had been placed. I retrieved several photos from inside the case file that had been placed on the table, and held them up to show the jury, before approaching the bench again and handing them to Justice Harlow.

"What are these articles you are presenting to the court, Ms Steinbrenner," Justice Harlow inquired, a hint of suspicion and doubt spreading across her face as she examined the photographs.

"They are pictures of cigarette burn scars. They are of both the victim and Ms Langdon. As you can see, they are identical in appearance," I pointed out.

I approached the prosecution, and handed a second set of copies of the photocopies to Michael Cutter.

"If Ms Langdon has been subjected to abuse in the same manner as Mrs Rothschild, is her witness statement completely full proof? It contains baggage, as one might say. There are flaws in her judgement. So the answer of course is no."

Michael Cutter got out of his seat. "I object your honour!" he called out to the judge for the second time. "The defence can't ask a rhetorical question, and then give the answer."

"I notion that, Mr Cutter," Justice Harlow agreed. "Ms Steinbrenner, could you please reword the statement you have just made."

"I conclude that Ms Langdon's testimony is not full proof. The prosecution has a damaged witness in Ms Langdon..."

The doors of the courtroom swung open with a heavy thrust. A brutish looking man strolled violently down the aisle.

"_You, Cheryl Steinbrenner!"_ he shrieked my name. "_All you defence attorneys care about is money, and now my sister is on death row because you didn't work hard enough to get her a lesser sentence."_

I recognised who the man was. He was Margret Giles' brother, Kyle Giles. The woman I had defended several months earlier for running down those pedestrians with her Porsche. He claimed that, as her defence attorney, I didn't care whether we won or lost the case as it was a massive cash flow to my firm anyway, and that I failed to grant her a lesser sentence. I had to admit, he was right about that.

_It was a slam-dunk case for the prosecution. No matter how hard we fought, we still would have lost,_ I thought to myself.

The entire court gasped and consoled one another, Kyle Giles' outburst into the courtroom causing a giant uprawel.

Justice Harlow fiercely banged down her gravel, in attempt to quieten down the unruly assembly. _"Order in my courtroom!"_ she shrieked, to no avail. She failed miserably. She pointed her gravel at the crude intruder. "_**You sir, get out... now! You are interrupting a criminal trial!**__"_

The man smirked up at her. "Sorry to rain on you parade, Judge, but I have some important business to get over and done with," he replied precociously.

He reached his hand into his jacket pocket, pulled out a metal hand gun, and pointed it directly at me.

"_You, Cheryl Steinbrenner will burn in hell!" h_e threatened.

Security guards and bailiffs, that been distributed throughout the courtroom, flocked around the deviate that was Kyle Giles, removed their guns from their holsters.

Members of the jury and the gallery crouched behind the rows of seats. My client, and Connie from the prosecution, seeked cover beneath the large wooden tables on each side of the courtroom. Justice Harlow ducked underneath her bench.

I couldn't move. It was as though my feet were nailed to the floor of the courtroom, as I stared down the gun of my attacker had pointed at me. I closed my eyes as he pulled the trigger.

_This is the end._

I heard two loud gun shots, and people shrieking in fear.

I suddenly felt my body be pushed onto the hard floor.

I opened my eyes, and stared down to find Michael Cutter's bleeding, and unconscious, body sprawled on top of me.

**What do you think? Feel free to review!**

**(Don't worry, he doesn't die!)**


	8. Chapter 8

**This bit of drabble contains some serious flirting between Mike and Connie. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I dot own the characters of 'Law and Order' and its characters. Lisa and Sophie are mine.

Rating: K+

**Positively Steaming**

Two college students, Sophie and Lisa, were sitting on a park bench in Central Park on a cold Fall day, enjoying their lunch break between classes.

"This chicken and avocado wrap is really good," Sophie mentioned to her curly brunette friend, taking a bight of her lunch. "What one did you get?"

"My one's eggplant and pumpkin," Lisa replied to her blonde friend, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "It's really good too."

Both girls noticed a considerably gorgeous older man, and a Latino looking woman walk past. Both girls' mouths dropped in sight of the devastatingly handsome man dressed in a long coat and carrying a briefcase. They both looked at each other with astonishment.

"Is it me, or is that old guy who just walked past really hot?!" Lisa blurted out to Sophie.

Sophie nodded in agreement. "You're right, Lisa, that old guy is _positively steaming!_" she answered in an eager tone. She began fanning herself with the book she had been reading, leering at the man as he and the woman accompanying him walked passed. "Just what we need on a frosty day like today."

Mike looked at Connie in disbelief, a little disgruntled, as they continued to walk through the park. "Did you hear that Connie?" Mike enquired, his tone outraged. "Those girls back there think _I'm old!_ _Me_ of all people." He scoffed. "I'm only forty-five. I'm not passed it yet."

Connie chuckled. "Well, they're right about the other thing they said about you," she said mischievously, gazing up at her dangerously attractive older boss.

He glanced at her with his famous dimpled smile, and his stormy blue eyes, flattered by her comment. "Thanks Connie," he replied, finding her sentiment endearing.

**You like? Feel free to review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Just some light-hearted drabble based around Mike Cutter and Kate Tenney. You'll find that some of my characters from other stories make appearances. **

I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters, nor do I own 'Boston Legal.'

Rating: K+

**Baking a Cake**

Courtney Tenney made her way down the stairs of her and her mother's townhouse. She walked into the kitchen, where her mother, Kate, had been baking a cake.

"Hey mom," she greeted with a friendly smile.

"Hey baby," she replied, turning to face her daughter, as she washed the dishes in the sink.

"What smells so good?" Courtney enquired, sniffing the air, taking in the homely aroma.

"Oh, I'm just baking a cake, for when Mike comes over," she replied casually. "You know Mike? That EADA from the District Attorney's office."

Courtney screwed her face up with slight disapproval. "You mean Mike Cutter?" she quarried suspiciously.

"Ah hah, that's the one," she replied cheerily. "Oh, God he's gorgeous, and sophisticated! Wait till you meet him."

Courtney was surprised to see her mother so excited, especially over some stiff in a suit who yells in court all day. Her mother was acting like a school-girl.

"You mean he actually took you up on your offer?"

"Yep, that's right, honey, we are officially dating."

"But he's _so old_." Courtney stifled a laugh in amusement.

Kate stood up straight to better compose herself. "He's not old, Courtney, he's distinguished," she reasoned. "And he's damn good looking for a forty-five-year old, I'll tell you that much. And tech savvy too, he uses a blackberry you know."

_Why do I have to explain myself to my own daughter? _She thought to herself, a little disgruntled.

Courtney approached the refrigerator, and retrieved a can of soda. "Is he coming over to watch Boston Legal?" she asked teasingly, her tone light-hearted. She laughed hysterically.

"Oh, I wish you'd stop making jokes about his occupation, and his accent," Kate pleaded with Courtney. "Mike is so nice."

Courtney approached her mother with a warm embrace.

"I know. I'm sorry Mom," she apologised sincerely. "I understand that you're entitled to a life as well."

Kate looked into her daughter's kind eyes. "Thank you, honey," she answered returning the gesture.

"Hey, if you say he's tech savvy, maybe he can buy me a new MP3 player," Courtney joked. "My one's going on the fritz."

They both chuckled.

Courtney then left the room to finish her homework.

Kate stood there for a moment, pondering about her own mother.

_Thank God I'm not like her. And thank God Courtney's not like me. _

Kate returned to the kitchen sink, as she finished cleaning the dirty dishes left over from her baking.

She looked out o the window, her eyes wistful.

_Yep, I've got my man, finally. _

She jumped at the sound of the doorbell ringing, a little panicky that she had not yet finished cleaning the dishes.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," Courtney called out to her from the lounge room.

Kate sighed with relief.

The end.

**What do you think? Happy, touching, reflecting? Feel free to review:-D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Mike encounters another one of his admirers and Cheryl Steinbrenner makes brief appearance. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order and its characters. I do not own Hugo Boss. Cheryl Steinbrenner, Courtney, and Mel are mine.

**Hotdog Stand**

Michael Cutter approached the hot-dog vendor outside the courthouse where I worked.

"Afternoon, Mr Cutter," I greeted him with a friendly smile."What can I get for you today, hon?"

"Morning Mel," he replied. He pulled out his Hugo Boss wallet, and looked up at the menu behind me. "Ah, I'll have a Yankee dog with ketchup, thanks."

"Sure thing, sweetie," I replied, placing the money he had handed me and placing it in the cash register. I then began preparing his order.

Suddenly, both our thoughts had been disrupted by my assistant, Courtney, accidently knocking down a tray of hot dogs.

"You want some hotdogs fresh from the floor Mr Cutter?" I joked with him playfully.

He laughed back.

"No thanks, Mel," he replied, as I handed him his hot-dog. "Ketchup's fine for me. No salmonella or cockroaches today, thank you."

He winked at me, his glance a little flirty, before heading up the steps of the courthouse to join his co-workers.

_God, there's something about a guy in a suit that is so hot,_ I thought to myself, leering at his tight butt as he made his way up the steps, his briefcase in hand. _Even if he is forty-something!_

I turned to face Courtney, glaring, annoyed.

"Thanks a lot," I said to her sarcastically. "You made me look like an utter fool in front of the EADA."

"I'm sorry, Mel," she said crouching down to pick up the hotdogs she had dropped, and placing them back on the try. "It was an accident."

I sighed, quite used to Courtney's clumsiness.

"That's okay," I said, forgiving her, also crouching down to help her pick up the hotdogs off the floor. "Just be more careful next time."

"Excuse me Miss," I heard someone from behind at the window of the vendor.

I looked up to see my next customer, an attractive blonde woman dressed in a caramel slacksuit. It was Defence Attorney Cheryl Steinbrenner.

"You know, I would like to be served some time before by next Christmas," she blasted indignantly. "I am a very busy person."

_You're pretty bumptious today, _I thought to myself in regards to her rude approach.

I shot her an innocent smile. "Sure thing, Ms Steinbrenner," I replied, as I retrieved a hotdog off the ground. "What would you like on your hotdog?"

"Diet relish, and low-fat cream-sauce," she replied articulately.

I placed the hotdog I had picked up off the floor onto the counter. I put it in a bun and dressed it with regular relish and full-fat cream sauce.

I handed Ms Steinbrenner her order, and placed the money she had given me in the cash register.

I smiled once again up at her make-up caked face. "Have a nice day, hon," I said.

She then left, and headed up the courthouse steps.

"_Bitch_," I muttered to myself, watching Cheryl Steinbrenner make her way up the steps of the courthouse. "Serves you right if you get food poisoning."

I reflected on that day she tripped on her way up the courthouse steps, a humoured grin spreading across my face. _Damn, that was hilarious! She deserves everything she gets!_

**What do you think? Feel free to review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Cheryl Steinbrenner reveals her feelings about Michael Cutter to Jack Capper. Let me know what you think! Hope y'all enjoy;-)**

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters. I do not own _Prada_ or _Milari._

Rating: T, for language and themes.

**Flirting with the Order**

By LTP-girl

Jack Capper glanced over at his partner, who was sitting behind her desk silently, reading over the details of her current case with a ball point pen, a little concerned by her odd silence. She had not spoken a word about the case after she had returned from Michael Cutter's office. It seemed strange to him, as the whole reason she had travelled all the way over there was to negotiate a plea bargain with him.

It had been a long day at the firm, with clients rushing in and out of the building, board meetings, several hearings, and not to mention the non-stop calls they received from the District Attorney's Office regarding his partner's upcoming court case. He yawned as he shut down his laptop, and took a brief glimpse of his wristwatch.

_11:20? Dang, I'd better get home and feed my fish, _he thought to himself.

He glanced over at his partner, who was still quietly reading over the case-file, not a word escaping her mouth. He noticed her pause for a moment as she quickly scribbled down some notes, and then resume reading. He got out of his chair and approached her desk.

"You alright, Cheryl?" he asked, sobriety in his voice.

She glanced up at him, a look of annoyance spreading across her face. "Of course I'm alright. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Oh, no reason in particular. It's just that you haven't said much since you got back from the DA's office," he replied. "How did that go, by the way?"

Cheryl stared back down at the papers sprawled on her desk in front of her. She sighed, her tone peeved. "Horribly, if you must know," she responded, reaching over her desk for a pile of evidence photos that had been placed there. She began to glance over them.

Jack took a seat on the edge of her desk. "Really? What happened?" he asked, slightly confused. If there was one thing his partner Cheryl Steinbrenner was good at, it was plea bargaining. "It's not like you to lose out on a plea bargain. Even when the cutting-edge hotshot Michael Cutter's concerned."

"Well I did this time," she sighed exasperated.

"So, I gather that you and Michael Cutter couldn't come to an agreement then."

"No."

"Wow. That's a change," Jack said slightly astounded. "Plea bargains are your thing. I don't understand it."

Cheryl dropped the pen she had been using onto her desk, frustrated with Jack's pestering. "You win some, you lose some."

"So, you couldn't wheedle _anything _out of the prosecution this time?"

"No. Cutter's un-wheedle-able," she argued. "Ask any defence lawyer who has ever crossed paths with him. He's a shark."

He sighed. "Oh Cheryl, you never give up this easily."

"Well I have this time." She got out of her desk, and began to compile all the papers together in a vanilla folder, and placed it in her briefcase underneath her desk. "Now, let that be an end to it." She made her way towards the coat rack at the side of the room, and removed her Milari coat from one of its hooks.

He stood up. "There's something else," he pressured, a slightly cheeky grin spreading across his face, amused by Cheryl's discomfort. "There's something you're not telling me."

She glanced up at him quickly with surprise. "What are you talking about?" she wrapped her Prada scarf around her neck, and slid her fingers into her Italian leather gloves.

He waltzed over towards her. "Since when have you been able to keep a secret from me?"

She sighed, beginning to feel defeated. Who was she kidding? He was bound to find out one way or another, so she came to the realization that she had better tell him right then and there what was bothering her. It was much better than him hearing it along the defence-lawyer's-grapevine.

She stared down at the floor. "I...um...I..."

Jack arched his eyebrows in anticipation of what Cheryl was about to say. "What?" He moved closer towards her.

Cheryl let out a long breath. "I...kissed...Michael Cutter," she relented. She starred back up at Jack, her eyes reflecting a hint of shame.

Jack's eyes widened and his jaw dropped apache, in surprise. A very amused grin spread across his face. "You did what?"

"I kissed Michael Cutter," she repeated solemnly. "Well, tried to, anyway."

An outlandish laugh escaped his mouth. "Did you?" He continued to break down in fits of laughter, finding it difficult to believe what Cheryl had just told him, given her and Michael Cutter's history.

"I was drawing out certain defence options I could use in court, while he was addressing the types of sentences my client was up against," Cheryl began. "And then we got into this heated argument in his office."

Jack's smile disappeared and his face grew serious.

"I was exhausted. And Cutter looked so hot, with his hands on his hips, his chest pushed forward defensively, in that shirt with the princess lining, his stance so self-assured, I slipped. I just wanted to get it over and done with, so I could better prepare for the arraignment," she explained. "So I approached him, and he pushed me away, refusing. I figured that if we...you know, he would take a bargain."

He nodded understandingly. Jack, being a gay man, knew full well the power Michael Cutter held over people, with his devastating good looks, and determination in what he worked for. He couldn't blame Cheryl for her actions. Hell, there have been times where Jack had come close to what she had done.

Cheryl sighed exasperated, and annoyed at herself for her stupidity. "I feel like such an utter fool." She collapsed into the leather upholstered sofa behind her. "I bet Michael Cutter and the other ADAs are laughing up their beautifully tailored sleeves by now."

Jack took a seat beside her, and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "We all make mistakes, Cheryl," he said gently.

She turned to face him with a tight smile. "What am I going to do? I have the arraignment tomorrow." she asked with worry. "I know Rubirosa usually handles that, but Cutter will be there, watching me." She sighed once again. "And then of course, with my client pleading _not guilty_, I have a whole trial to get through, and he'll be prosecuting."

Jack shrugged. "It could be worse. Cutter could report you for harassment in the workplace, for making advances towards him," he piped up, trying to cheer his colleague up, but failing miserably.

She shot him a glare. _Oh God, I haven't even thought about that, s_he panicked. _What if he does report me?_

"What am I going to do Jack?"

Jack stood up, with his hands on his hips. "I'll tell you what you're going to do, Cheryl," he declared encouragingly. "You're going to walk through the courtroom door, stare Michael Cutter in the eye, and fight for your client."

**What do you think? Feel free to review, and comments most welcome:-)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Just a funny scenario I thought might happen to our favourite lawyers at lunchtime. **

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Law and Order' and its characters.

Rating: K+

Category: Mike/Connie/Jack

**Cockroaches**

By LTP-girl

Mike and Connie both stood by the hotdog vendor outside the courthouse.

A look of shock spread across Connie's face, as she noticed something wriggling in her hotdog.

"Oh my God, what's that in my hotdog?" Connie gasped, examining it closely. It took a moment for her to realize what it was. "_Ewww! __IT'S A COCKROACH!"___She flinched, startled.

Mike looked up at her with a revolted expression. "_Cockroaches? That's disgusting! We should sue!__**" **_he fumed angrily. "We are lawyers after all."

Jack approached Connie and Mike, laden with a hotdog heavily doused in ketchup.

"Hey you kids, I got extra ingredients in mine," he said excitedly, grinning. "Whatever they are they're nice and crunchy!_**"**_

He took a large bite from his hotdog. "_Owwww__**, **__I broke my dentures on one of those crunchy things!" He cried._

Connie shrugged. "Oh well, I don't care, I'm hungry," she said, eating her hotdog anyway.

"I hope you like cockroaches and salmonella Connie," Jack piped up cheekily.

_Oh no, I shouldn't have had seconds! _Mike thought silently to himself.

**What do you think? Comments most welcome?**


End file.
